Forbidden
by Girl-with-gloves
Summary: "What's wrong, Harry?" "You are." She wanted to ask,  but was cut off by a brief graze of his lips. This was supposed to  be her engagement party to Ron, and now Harry did this…


**A/N: I don't own Harry Potter – I'm counting this disclaimer for all chapters.**

**Summary: "What's wrong, Harry?" "You are." She wanted to ask, but was cut off by a brief graze of his lips. This was supposed to be her engagement party to Ron, and now Harry did this…**

**Chapters: 1/?**

**Pairings: Harry/Hermione. Ginny/Dean. Mentions of Ron/Hermione.**

**Bashing? No – I don't believe in bashing.**

**Credit: SkyeElf, whose one-shot (First and last kiss) inspired this. She has given me permission to use it, though on the contrary that I give credit where credit is due.**

**Forbidden**

**Chapter 1**

Hermione smiled sadly – though as to why she was so upset she didn't know. This was it – her engagement party. Though she, of course, wasn't to know. It was a surprise. Ron always was a bit tactless. He'd nearly forced her out of her flat to get her here. She was standing to the side, wanting to be alone for a while. Thinking – which wasn't an alien activity to Hermione at all.

She knew Ron would ask her to marry him tonight; that was not the problem. No, the problem was… did she _want_ to marry him? She knew she loved him, but it was sort of platonic… she knew she wasn't _in _love with him, thought love him she did. No doubt.

No – her thoughts had recently shifted to her other best friend. She hadn't realised it yet, but there a tiny bit of feelings there that weren't exactly sisterly. She noticed that when she hugged him, he smelt a bit differently. When he smiled, his smile was a bit brighter when directed at her. She loved the colour of his eyes, even though she always had; the bright green became brighter to her every time she saw them. She noticed the darker flecks in his eyes, and the way they paled when he got angry.

What confused her most, though, that since Ron had announced he was holding a party for no apparent reason a week ago, Harry hadn't offered to help with the arrangements. He'd become sullen and silent, like a bear with a sore paw at times, snapping at the others. Whilst Dean had fallen over himself to help Ron, that might've been due to Dean's dating Ginny again and wanting to get into Ron's good graces. So Hermione believed.

"Hey." She jumped at the voice. She turned around, smiling as she saw her best friend.

"Hey, Harry." She said, her tone endearing. "Did you help plan this?"

He shook his head in denial, confirming her suspicion.

"All Ron's doing. He really does love you, you know." Harry said, taking a step closer to her. They were in the corner at the back, shrouded in darkness. Was it her imagination or was Harry slightly downcast? It was hard to tell – he'd been upset the whole week.

"He's trying." She shrugged. "I appreciate the attempt."

He nodded, not looking at her. His eyes fazed slightly, as if he was about to cry. But then he blinked and it was gone. Hermione wondered if she could have imagined it. He opened his mouth to say something, reminding her of a fish out of water, then thought better of it and turned to walk away. He escaped through a gap in the tent. She followed, having to stop to pull her mad hair from where the tent had snagged it.

"Harry?" She followed him out of the tent, wondering what was wrong. She followed him all the way to the tall grass, where there was no light except those from the tent in the Burrow's garden.

"Harry Potter, what is it?" She demanded. "What's wrong?"

"You are what's wrong, Hermione." He said, laughing sardonically into the darkness. "You don't get it, do you?"

"What?" She asked, furious at being kept in the dark – figuratively speaking, of course.

"_You_ are the problem, Hermione, _you _are what's wrong."

"Well, if that's the case, I'll just leave…" She turned to leave, thinking she'd just been dealt an insult. If Harry didn't think she was good enough for his best friend, he could just send himself to the bloody moon!

"No!" Harry yelled, grabbing onto her wrist. "No, you can't go."

"Why not?" She asked, narrowing her eyes. Even if he couldn't see it, he felt her aura becoming darker.

"Ron's going to ask you to marry him." He said quickly, as if it made up for the insult.

"Then I'd better go accept it, not true?" She countered, again pondering if it was what she really wanted.

"No… I… I…" He stuttered, uncharacteristically.

"Spit it out!" She screamed, impatient. This was a different side of Harry.

"I don't want you to marry Ron." He said, letting her wrist go. His voice sounded small, severe for one so young.

"And since when can you decide for me?" She asked; her tone icy.

"I can't…" He said, seeming to struggle internally. She saw his outline turn away from her. "Then go. Go be with your Ron."

Her heart melted as she filled with guilt. He was only trying to open his heart to her. She reached a tentative hand out and put it on his shoulder. His head turned in the direction of her hand, but it was all he could see.

"What's really the matter, Harry?" She asked, her brow creasing.

"You are." He repeated his earlier statement.

"But what have I done wrong? Harry, we've been best friends since first year – but you're being impossible…"

Her words were cut short by lips. A brief graze of his lips against hers. In that second, time came to a standstill. She closed her eyes, hoping it would make the second stretch.

But Harry had pulled away. Even in the feint light of the tent she could see his horrified expression: eyes wide, mouth open.

"Hermione… I… I'm sorry, that wasn't planned at all... I shouldn't have come…"

"You're his best friend…" She tried to soothe him.

"That makes it only worse!" His scream echoed around them. "He's my best friend, and I repay him by trying to snog you? His girlfriend? Soon to be fiancé? What was I thinking? Oh, gosh… I'm just going to leave now, all right? I won't bother you again… I'm sorry…"

"Harry, wait…"

But he had already disapparated. Hermione had tried to stop him, but her hand hung in mid-air.

Hermione stood like that for a few minutes, wondering where this had come from. She was confused now. She'd knowingly left the tent, the tent in which Ron Weasley wanted to propose to her in.

Gay music reached her ears as she paced back. Happy laughter and chattering. She thought of how her friends were all expecting to say yes to his question – how could she not? They'd been going out for over two years now, it seemed only logical that this should be the next step.

Hermione realised she wasn't ready for the next step. She wasn't ready to settle down, even if it didn't mean literally settling down. She didn't want a serious thing – especially not with Ron. Not now, not after Harry… kissed her. The memory filled her senses. She could feel the fleeting touch of his lips… that tiny touch was enough to tell her what she needed to know. She'd felt electricity in its pure form running through her veins. She was definitely not in love with Ron, but with his best friend. But how do you explain that to someone? To Ron?

"Hermione?" Ron's voice was magnified, he must've been using his wand as a substitute microphone. "Hermione, will you marry me?"

She froze. She'd expected it, but not for him to do it loudly, where everyone would hear him. She wasn't in the tent, thanking Merlin for this, she backtracked. She didn't want to tell him no, she didn't want to marry him. She didn't want to see the rejection make itself known, she didn't want to go in and turn him down in front of everyone.

"Hermione? Where are you?" He sounded so innocent. So… sweet, almost. No mass of sweetness could change her mind, however. As much as she would've liked to say yes, smile at him and accept the happy kiss he would give her, she couldn't. Her heart wasn't in it.

Praying he would forgive her, she ran as quietly as she could back to the tall grass, hearing Ron's question echo in her ears, and turned on the spot. She hated herself, but her Gryffindor courage had failed her this round.


End file.
